the next best thing will do

i can make the badguys good for a weekend

The dark beyond the tavern swallows them quickly, rain and singing muffled to a distant, impatient purr as she moves with purpose, sparks of fire skittering off her skin with each step like embers shaken loose. The glow paints her in brief flashes of gold and coral, enough to catch the sharp line of her grin as she reaches for Jack without hesitation. Her fingers find his belt easily, deft and practiced, already unbuckling it as she walks backwards, blue eyes never leaving his. The heat between them is no longer subtle, no longer playful suggestion, but something heavier, coiled tight and waiting to be loosed. Her tail flicks behind her, restless and pleased, brushing his leg as if urging him to keep pace.

She reaches blindly for a door handle with one hand while the other continues its work, twisting the latch only to find it stubbornly locked. Charlie huffs a soft, amused breath, not breaking stride, guiding them further along the narrow corridor until she tries another door. This one gives, swinging inward to reveal a cramped storage room; shelves lined with crates and supplies, a rough counter bolted along one wall, no comfort to speak of and certainly no bed.

Her mind doesn’t balk at the space for even a heartbeat, not when Jack had boasted of being able to sail on any sea. With a raised brow that echoes this though, she tugs him forward, fire flaring briefly along her shoulders as she pulls him across the threshold.

.